


Sick, Tired and Miss Jones

by Liadt



Category: Adam Adamant Lives!
Genre: Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 10:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7973197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liadt/pseuds/Liadt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are gravely ill, Miss Jones. I am taking you to see a doctor at once,”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick, Tired and Miss Jones

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the a_war_of_roses lj landcomm bingo. Prompt: disease.

“Hey! What's going on?” said Georgie. Despite being half asleep, she struggled valiantly to free herself from her captor's iron grasp. When she realised Adam was her kidnapper she relaxed in his arms.

“You are gravely ill, Miss Jones. I am taking you to see a doctor at once,” said Adam.

“Ill? I'm not ill. At least, I wasn't when I nodded off in your conservatory.”

“You face has turned the most peculiar shade of purple, indicating a lack of oxygen.”

Georgie laughed.

Clearly oxygen deficiency had effected Miss Jones' mind already. Was Adam too late: could the damage be permanent?

“That's because I've plastered on a berry-beautiful face pack. It will make my skin soft and glowy, according to what's written on the back of the packet. It'll come off with a wet flannel.”

Now she was no longer in danger, Adam set Georgie back down on the lounging chair, she'd previously been reclining on. “If this is not too ridiculous a question, why are you in my residence experimenting with a face pack?”

“I'm getting ready for a party,” replied Georgie, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to be doing in his home.

“Is it not possible for you to do so in your own place?”

“My flat was flooded last night. The storm blew part of the roof off and I can't stay there until it's been fixed,” said Georgie. Her face pack cracked alarmingly across her face.

“And Simms permitted you to come and make yourself at home?” Adam glared at the closed door to the hall, where the sounds of hoovering was coming from.

“Well, I left out the staying part, but he was happy to let me to get ready when I said I would be off again at eight. I told him the light's better in here for doing my make-up.” Georgie picked a hand mirror off a small wicker table and grimaced at what she saw. “Yuk! I look like something out out of a Hammer Horror. No wonder you thought I was a goner.”

“Miss Jones, you simply cannot stay here.”

“I let you stay at my flat, when you had no where to go to. Besides, I'm stony broke. I don't get paid until the end of the month.” Georgie looked pleadingly at him.

“Very well.” Adam could never resist a damsel in distress. “You shall have my room to sleep in and I will take advantage of the change in the weather and sleep on the roof. It will do my lungs good to breath in the crisp night air.”

“In London? I think you'll need a doctor, Mr Adamant.”

**

A couple of nights later, Georgie and Simms were alone together in the drawing room. Adam was outside, continuing with his lonely roof top arrangements.

“How did this happen? I'm disgusted with myself,” groaned Simms and took a long drag of his cigar.

Georgie gave a contented sigh and stretched out on the sofa. “I'm not. And to think Adam's sleeping out there to make sure there could be no accusations of impropriety. If only he knew...”

Simms put his head in his hands trying to blot out the memory of what had just happened between them. “One whole box of matches!” 

“Don't forget the three buttons and a safety-pin too.” Georgie tapped her index finger on her side of the card table, next to where the pile of matches obscured Simms' view of these items.

Simms regained his composure and shuffled a pack of cards. “Best of twenty?”


End file.
